


Helpless

by BrightOwl_Old



Series: Best of Wolves and Best of Witches [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: -Ish, Angst, Canon Compliant, Casual Sex, Compliant-ish, Consensual Sex, Drama, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Love, Oral Sex, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Porn with Feelings, Pottermore, RLNT, Remadora, Remus Is An Oral Sex Angel, Romance, Scars, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 20:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7121137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightOwl_Old/pseuds/BrightOwl_Old
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashamed of his condition, Professor R.J. Lupin just wants no-strings-attached sex to soothe his loneliness. But he’s helpless to resist the charms of one shape-shifting Auror.  And she’s helpless in his arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been done before, but I couldn't resist this ship. Here's my shot at showing two beautiful people with a little too much baggage.

Blood dripped from the wolf's fangs. The carcass of a hare, white in its winter coat, lay at the wolf’s feet. It had been an offering, an invitation to the pack, but the wolf had dropped the hare when the beast before him had become a wizard in the approaching daylight. 

Frightened, the wolf backed into the forest and ran away. 

Remus awoke shivering on the forest floor, every muscle in his body on fire, his bones aching. 

He approached the hare. He wondered if she should bury it, or take it with him to cook. It had been so helpless. 

He couldn’t make a decision. He turned and Apparated to headquarters. 

Before he could touch the door of 12 Grimmauld Place, however, it swung open, a flurry of pink before him. 

“Wocher, Remus!” Tonks said, smiling at him.

The freeze that enveloped his insides warmed. 

“What a nice surprise,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Just finished guard duty,” she yawned. “Can’t exactly hand off Mad-eye’s cloak at work, can I? What are you doing out here? You look a fright.”

“Ahh—“ Remus hesitated. 

“Oh—“ Tonks interjected. “Sorry. Right. Can I get you a cuppa before I get back to the Ministry, Remus? Catch you up? No need to wake Sirius.”

“Alright,” he said. 

Tonks held the door open as Remus led the way to the kitchen. He crept carefully around the umbrella stand, but the same could not be said for Tonks. Although she didn’t knock the stand over, her heavy footsteps were somehow enough to arouse Mrs. Black, whose curtains swung open with a shriek. 

“FILTHY HALF BLOOD AND HALF BREED IN MY HOUSE!!!” 

Instinctively, Remus and Tonks each grabbed a curtain. “Oh shut up you old cow!” Tonks shouted. They aggressively pressed the curtains together, meeting in the middle. Tonks’s hands slipped from the velvet as it reached its limit, and she fell bawdily against Remus. He let go of the drapery and reached out to catch her, her chest colliding with his as she tumbled. She tried to steady herself, but Remus found himself holding tight to her. She looked up at him, “Wocher, Remus,” she whispered. 

-

Casual sex following his transformation was a habit that he couldn’t seem to kick. It had started after the first war. Following the trauma of losing his mother and all three of his closest friends, Remus had decided to devote his life to fighting the dark arts, and had moved to Stockholm to take up a graduate degree in Defense. 

Grieving his loved ones and trying to fit in in a new place, the loneliness was punishing. His pain would hit its crux before his transformation, and he’d return from it desperate to feel human again.

Muggle tourists in bars were most often the ticket. Quick and bored and baggage free. The sex was often frenzied and Remus would cling to their bodies afterward, hoping the contact would soothe his despair. He’d slip away before daybreak, leaving no trace, vanishing even the enchanted condoms he used to ensure there was no swapping of any fluid that might infect his partners. Although his professors told him there was no chance of transmitting lycanthropy without a bite, there hadn’t been any rigorous studies on the matter, and Remus wasn’t willing to risk the lives of the women who so generously afforded him the human contact he so desperately craved. 

Upon the completion of his degree, Remus was awarded a position as a lecturer on Dark Creatures at the University. His mentor held a small get-together where he presented Remus with a brand-new suitcase decorated with the lettering “Professor R.J. Lupin.” It was at this gathering that Remus was introduced to a newly-minted Potions Master, Miss Elga Ennelsen.

A top-marks Beauxbatons graduate, Elga spoke five language including Mermish, and loathed the Dark Arts with a ferocious passion. She was tall and willowy, with dirty-blonde hair and green eyes, and enviable equanimity. Remus was smitten the moment they shook hands. 

“Would you like to take a walk?” She asked as the bar cleared, the older academics closing their tabs and heading out.

Remus nodded. 

“You were at Hogwarts, is that right?” Elga said, as they walked along the river, enjoying the moonless summer night. 

“I was,” said Remus. 

“Were you affected by the war?” Elga asked.

“You could say that,” he said, withdrawing slightly. 

“You lost someone, Mr. Lupin,” she said, matter-of-factly. Her Swedish accent was thick, but her command of English made up for it. “Me too. My brother. When the Giants migrated to the continent. That’s why I asked. I hope I was not too frank.”

“I don’t talk about it much,” Remus said. “I’m sure you understand.”

She reached beside her and grasped his hand as they walked, intertwining their fingers and sending a warm sensation through his limbs. When they arrived back at her dormitory, she kissed him softly before heading upstairs.

For the next two weeks, Elga and Remus were practically inseparable. From magical theory conversations that lasted hours to sitting silently beside each other in the stacks of the vast University Library, the two found any excuse to be close. Although they had just met, Remus had a feeling that this relentless happiness at the very thought of her was what others described as "falling" for someone. 

As the full moon approached, they found themselves wrapped around one other, kissing deeply and passionately on the twin bed in Remus’s dormitory. Their robes long since discarded, Elga began unbuttoning Remus’s shirt. Lost in the sensation of her hands on his skin, and utterly obsessed with the hungry look in Elga’s eyes, he did not consider that unlike the muggles he bedded, who thought he was a rugged adventurer, Elga might see something different in the scars across his chest. 

She eased the shirt off his arms, and gasped when she beheld him. He instinctively covered his neck and shoulder. 

“I did not know that you were so injured in the war. You don’t have to hide," she said, and pulled his hand away from his shoulder. 

Fear gripped him as she saw the expression on her face change from concern to confusion. 

“Chimera bite,” he lied quickly. 

She stared at the mark, shaking her head. “I know what that is. You should not be alive.”

“No, it’s just an old injury,” he said, grasping at her arms as she slowly pulled away. 

“That is the mark of a werewolf,” she said. She reached steadily into her bag and pulled out her wand, holding it carefully in front of her. “Stay back, beast.”

Remus now recoiled, his back against the wall. “I don’t want to hurt you, Elga.”

“The full moon is tomorrow. Is that why you brought me here?” she asked, “To trap me, you filthy creature?”

“No! I - It’s me! You know me.” 

“I cannot believe I kissed you. I almost laid with you.” She had a look of utter disgust upon her face. “Get out!” she yelled. 

“But this is my -“ 

“Go away, beast,” she cried, “do not return to this place!”

Remus hurriedly collected his robes and empty suitcase and Disapparated to the forest where he was to undergo his transformation the following night, howling sobs into the sky. 

He recovered in the woods, then booked a train back to the UK. He sat beside a muggle girl on the train, and when she slid her hand up his thigh, he invited her to the lavatory stall, where he took her from behind, covered in their clothes, staring at her face in the mirror, trying to find gratification in the pleasure he could give. 

-

Remus lost all sense as he felt Tonks’s tongue in his mouth. The world compressed, and Remus realized they were Apparating. 

They appeared in at the doorway of a Tonks’s flat, his back pressed against it as she kissed him aggressively. He returned her fervor - he couldn’t help himself - running his hands up and down her arms and willing her closer. 

“What are we doing?” He breathed against her. 

“Snogging, I think it is,” she said. “This is my flat. I’m my own secret keeper, so. Yeah. Come on in.”

He followed her into the apartment. 

Her flat was small and a bit untidy. It smelled like old books and stale bread. Stacks of books and parchment, a Cleansweep, dark detectors and family photos littered the shelves and tables, arranged with no order or reason. She tossed her cloak on the sofa and grabbed his hand behind her as she sauntered to her bedroom. 

She turned back and smiled up at him, pressing her body against his. 

He felt his heart-rate soar. He lowered his head to hers, savoring the feeling of his tongue running over her lips. She unfastened her robes and let them fall to the floor. 

"Do you think this a good idea?" he said. 

She ran a hand over his zipper and placed a hot, wet kiss on his neck. "The point is not to think," she breathed in his ear. 

He wanted to devour her. 

With her robes off, she was a pink vision in a white silk slip and black combat boots. He pushed her to lie on her back, with her knees bent over the side of the bed. He knelt between them and slowly lifted her slip to reveal the black panties beneath. He slipped his thumbs into the elastic and pulled her panties over her boots and cast them to the side. 

He ran his hands up and down her thighs, gently massaging the crux of her hip, breathing her in. Goosebumps appeared along her legs and he smiled, gently nuzzling her mound. 

“May I?” He asked. 

“Please,” she whispered. 

He took his cue and opened his mouth against her as if she were the juiciest of peaches. His tongue gently parted her folds, trailing a line from her opening upward. He repeated this motion for several strokes, delving his tongue a bit deeper inside her each time. She tasted exquisite. Having never been with a witch before, Remus wondered idly if the werewolf’s propensity for magical flesh carried beyond his lupine form. 

With a long, slow stroke of his tongue, he settled on her clit. He began to swirl various shapes onto her until she gasped and bucked against him as he made a figure-8. Over and over he swirled the figure-8, tightly grasping her hips to keep her still. When she cried out in orgasm, he did not relent. Rather, he slid a finger inside her, relishing how wet she was, the combined arousal and orgasm. While she still pulsed from her first orgasm, he sucked gently at her clit, penetrating her with his finger as she came again, her entire body, from her back to her hips to her toes arching with the intensity of this second wave. 

He looked up, and unlike the muggles who had been lucky enough to experience his ministrations, Tonks was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Her hair, which had been in rose-colored spikes when she lay down, was now long and wavy across the sheets, a rainbow of color - violet and turquoise and gold - pulsing from the roots. 

Remus had always felt it was his duty to give pleasure before he so greedily took it. He loved hearing and feeling a woman come. But he had never seen it before. Seen it so beautifully in color. He could have sworn he saw shooting stars in her eyes as she recovered. Her lips matched the bright pink of the ones he’d just kissed and his erection ached painfully against his trousers as he watched her nipples peek out from her slip. 

He stood and unbuckled his belt. He saw her regain focus and prop herself on her elbows, staring at him. “On your knees, please” he said. 

The simple order drew a smile to her face. She rolled onto her stomach and up onto her knees. Her hair settled back into magenta, but was still long, cascading over her back and onto the bed. He pulled his cock from his trousers, and pointed his wand at it, muttering, “Prophylato,” to conjure an enchanted condom from his stores and apply it perfectly onto himself. 

He stepped forward, slid her slip back up to her waist and pressed his hips against her ass, his knees resting against the bed between her feet. He guided his cock into her, where it faced no resistance, allowing him to fill her fully.

He reached forward and collected her long hair, twisting it gently into a rope. He used his other hand to squeeze her waist and pull her body against his. She was warm and wet and tight, and he felt a growl escape his throat. He slowly thrust back and into her, intoxicated by her soft moans as he pushed to the hilt. He increased his pace, trying to keep his grunts silent as he fucked her.

He knew that her rainbow would bring him over the edge, so he wet his finger in his mouth and reached around massage her clit. As soon as he touched her, she cried “Remus!” and he was exploding before a single hair on her head changed. 

He wanted to bring her around a third time, but suddenly, all was not well. 

As he pulsed inside her, the room began to develop a thick haze. His fingers and toes went numb, and a tunnel of black formed around his line of vision. He unceremoniously slid off of her and collapsed onto his back. 

“Remus?” She said. He felt her turning to look at him. “Oh my God!” She gasped. “You’re white as a sheet. Well, not my sheets, but, oh. Damn. Shit.”

He thought of how silly he must look, dazed on her bed, his trousers unbuttoned, his cock, still sheathed in latex, lolling against his hip. He tried to pull his pants up, and he felt her hands on his sweaty face. “My transformation…” he struggled to say. “Just… recovering.”

“Just stay right here,” she said. “Don’t move.” As if he could. “Just relax. I’ll get you something to eat. Don’t move.”

His eyes fell heavily shut, but he could hear her stumbling and padding through her apartment and into the kitchen. As he struggled to retain consciousness, he heard what was the unmistakeable sound of eggs breaking on linoleum, “Bollocks!” Tonks shouted, and Remus felt the trace of a smile creep over his lips. 

He half-woke to her sitting on the bed beside him, still in her slip and boots, her hair back to its short, bubblegum pink. “Here, have some pumpkin juice,” she said, tipping a glass toward his mouth. He pushed himself to semi-sitting, his brief respite giving him time to gather strength. He took the glass, unwilling to be so prostrated before her. 

“Thank you.” He drained the glass, and she passed a plate onto his lap. 

“Baked beans on toast,” she said. “It’s all I can really cook anyway. Better than nothing, I hope?”

He had already taken a few bites. “Yes,” he said. It was not quite what he craved, but he knew it would tide him over until he could get a rare steak on his way back to Sirius’s. 

“Good. I was scared for a minute there. Can you imagine having to tell Dumbledore how you died in my flat?” She huffed herself up in her best impersonation of the old wizard. “‘What happened to our werewolf, Nymphadora?’ ’Shagged him to death, Professor.’ What a way to go, eh? I suppose that’s what you get for hiring a 23-year-old Auror. I told you I couldn’t behave myself.”

“You’re 23?” Remus said, as he finished his toast. 

“Don’t hold it against me. I’m lucky the ministry didn’t. Speaking of which, I’m late for my shift. So just, stay here. Sleep. Relax. Eat or drink anything you want. Don’t go through my sock drawer. Or, hey, do go through my sock drawer,” she winked. “Get some rest and I’ll get you back home tonight. Okay, bye. Bye.”

He slept a few hours to recover from their union, then after washing his dishes and making up her disheveled bed, left before she returned. 

—

Pretending nothing had happened was easier than he thought it would be. With Arthur’s attack at Christmas and Harry’s personal crisis — not to mention Sirius’s constant mood swings — Remus and Tonks barely had time to talk, let alone acknowledge any sordid embarrassment between them. 

After the next full moon, however, Remus thought of Tonks immediately upon coming to. 

She had provided such a wonderful diversion the month previous, but he thought it too much to expect a repeat of their previous adventure. Yet, when he showed up at her flat that evening, she opened the door, and her eyes turned immediately hungry. She grabbed his robes and pulled him in.

Move for move, he repeated his performance from four weeks prior, the only difference being his increased understanding of Tonks's body, bringing her to orgasm more quickly and more often. 

She lay on her stomach, panting as he removed himself from her. , "So," she laughed, “you have quite the routine."

"I don't recall hearing you complain," Remus said, zipping his trousers, and pulling his cloak on. 

She rolled over to regard him. 

"It was great," she said. "But, you know, maybe let me have a turn next time."

"Next time?" Remus said. 

"I mean, we have that mission together next week," her cheeks turned slightly pink. "I thought, after..."

He cocked his eyebrow at her. 

-

They sat across from one another at the long table during an Order meeting in late February. Remus shared, in his eloquent turn of phrase, the information they had picked up in their interrogation of businesses in Knockturn Alley. As soon as he finished speaking, Tonks ran her foot up his leg, resting it against the crook of his pants. He pretended not to notice, but he felt her watching him as he swallowed. 

Remus thought he saw her depart 12 Grimmauld Place with Kingsley and Moody, but when he opened the door to the Black House guests’ quarters where he had taken up residence, she was sitting on his bed, naked but for her hair, long and golden, covering her breasts, and wrapped around her body, Boticelli’s Venus, leaving only her best parts to his imagination. 

She looked delighted as his mouth fell open and dry. She stood to kiss him and slide her hands into his pants, stroking his cock. After a quick Prophylato, he turned her around and pulled her onto his lap as he sat on the edge of his bed. She gathered her ankles on each side of him so she could lean back against his chest while still controlling the movement. She rose and fell against him as he sucked her neck and caressed her nipples and folds until she came, collapsing and sweating and swearing, and he thrust up into her a final time with his orgasm. 

Her head fell back on his shoulder and she kissed his ear. “Why don't you ever want to do it face-to-face?" She whispered, as she recovered. 

"Why do you always ask so many questions?” He said, catching his breath. “Are you not satisfied with what we have?"

"You could do whatever you want to me, and I'd be pudding in your arms. But I'll always be curious."

—

They fell into a pattern, between his room and her flat, whenever there was a mission or a meeting or a full moon. Whenever they were stressed or bored or horny. There was no discussion of their arrangement. There was no flooing or owling ahead of time. They just showed up and fell into bed. When she would drop to her knees or try to undress him, he’d pull her into a deep kiss and distract her with the deep, rough thrusts from behind that made her scream his name. There was the occasional pillow talk afterward - nothing serious - just the things they had in common - tales of Hogwarts and and Sirius and Harry and Dumbledore. If she didn’t come at least twice during foreplay and intercourse, Remus would settle himself between her legs, sickened slightly by the lingering taste of latex, and stroke her clit with his tongue until she could no longer move. 

One night after a meeting where Dumbledore’s disappointment in Snape’s most recent conquest had created several minutes of silence between the members, Tonks suggested a fire whisky drinking competition between herself and Sirius to loose the tension. 

And somehow, after firewhisky and butter beers and strip exploding snap, Remus found himself with a pleasantly warm buzz, while Tonks was completely, blackout drunk. And unlike his mates, who were angry and rude with drink, Tonks was somehow more herself. More bright, more funny, more loud, more clumsy. When she couldn’t hold herself up properly, Remus politely offered to Apparate her to her flat. 

"Where are your keys, love?" he asked, as they stood before her door.

"Love," she put her hands on his face. 

He shook his head and used his wand. "Alohamora."

"Oooh, look at this!" Still in the hall of her apartment building, she reached into his robes to grab at his member. 

"None of that," he said, lifting her legs into the cradle of his arms, carrying her over the doorway the way that newly-minted husbands carry their brides. 

"Dun-dun-da-da," Tonks sang Wagner's Bridal Chorus. "Owwwwooooooooo,” she howled, silly and carefree. 

He laid her on her bed and slipped off her shoes. "Goodnight," he said. 

"No no no, wait!" She said, pulling his head down to kiss him sloppily on the mouth. "Stay! Let's get naked!"

He peeled her hands from his neck. "You are drunk."

"But I want you!" she said. "You never let me see you naked!" Her tone had shifted from tipsy to belligerent. 

"Not tonight, Tonks." He kissed her forehead and stood to leave. 

"Diffindo!" she said with a slashing movement across his body. His clothes, from his robes down to his shirt, split open and were pushed away from him from the force with which Tonks had cast the spell. 

Time froze. 

Tonks brought her hands reflexively to her chest. He could see something change in her face, as though a light went out. 

"You should not have done that," Remus said. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and marched out, slamming the door behind him as she heard her choke, "Remus, wait-" while he Apparated away. 

—

When Remus descended the stairs the following morning, Grimmauld Place was an utter mess. Butterbeer bottles were strewn across the kitchen table, amongst the gobstones that they had tried to shoot into the antique silver goblets of the Black family. 

It was a shock to see her there, shoulders hunched, sitting next to Sirius. "My head," she croaked, while Sirius flicked his wand to flip fried eggs and stir baked beans. 

"Look what the dog dragged in," Remus said, sardonically. 

"Someone had a bit too much fun last night," Sirius laughed. "Says she can't remember anything past standing on the table belting Celestina Warbeck."

She glanced up at Remus, a look of slight consternation on her face. "There are other... flashes." She laid her head down upon her arms. 

"Remus took you home last night," Sirius said. Sirius placed a hand on the back of her neck, massaging her shoulders. "Though I think we both know he's far too much of a gentleman to try anything." He winked up at Remus.

"I'll leave you," Remus said, taking a mug of tea and the Prophet and letting the door close behind him as he stalked back upstairs. 

Flashes, he thought. That was it. He'd seen what happened to her face when she'd seen his skin. She'd recoiled. Scared. Disgusted. Exactly as Elga had. 

But it wasn't like Elga. He had thought he was falling for Elga. He wasn't falling for Tonks. 

He had fallen.

Dropped as if from a cliff and crashed into the sea and submerged, drowning in his love for her. 

Helpless. 

His love was so strong it was physical, crushing his chest and shooting jolts into his fingers and toes as if he were constantly approaching a transformation. 

The pain was too much to bear. And he knew that despite their sexual chemistry, Tonks could never return his affections. She was young and bright and had a beautiful future, full of beautiful children and a fulfilling career ahead of her. He was penniless, hurtling toward middle-age, and an actual monster. She might be his dream, but his reality was a nightmare. 

—

It was dawn, the second day of the moon's wane. A knock on his bedroom door stirred him. Covering himself with a dressing gown, he cracked his door to see Tonks standing below him.

"Where were you last night?” she said. "I waited up for you."

“You didn't need to," he said, attempting to close the door. 

"Wait. Is there someone in there?"

"Ah," he said, "You know I had a transformation, so I must have a woman here."

"Don't be unreasonable," she said. "You've been avoiding me, I don't know what I did."

"You did not do anything," he said with finality. 

"Well then why are you acting like this?"

"We are professional colleagues. I think it is time that we returned to that arrangement. For everyone's safety."

"Safety?" she said, incredulously. "What are you on about?"

"We have a mission together tomorrow I believe. I'd like to keep things as cordial as possible. 

“I don’t know if this has to do with the moon or what, but I hope that you're not still a crazy person when we leave for Malfoy Manor tomorrow."

"You need to be more respectful of your elders," he said and shut the door. 

—

They met at dusk and departed for the Manor. The main purpose of the mission was to see if there were any ministry officials or private citizens who were involved in Death Eater activity. 

They lay on the mansion’s sweeping grounds under Alastor's invisibility cloak, which he had recently re-disillusioned for their continued protection. 

Remus hated being this close together, under the cloak with Tonks. He could smell her - her hair, her breath, her sweat. An uncomfortable silence lay between them for hours, until the gardens were still, the house dark, the sun threatening to rise and end the long night. 

"Are you ready to depart for headquarters?" he asked. 

"Yep," she said shifting onto her side, now that they didn't have to face the gate. She looked at Remus. "It's funny how Sirius glamorizes this in his mind."

"How do you mean?" he said.

"He wants to get out and do more, you know, he always whinges about it. But in the end, it's just a lot of sitting under the invisibility cloak for hours at a time. I mean, before I was an Auror, I thought stakeouts would be so fun, but mostly they're more boring than staying in.”

"Sirius was never really the type to stay in, though. I can't imagine how it's affecting him being on house arrest after 12 years in prison.”

"It's amazing how well he coped, when you think about it. Most people go mad. He’s still handsome, isn’t he, even after Azkaban?"

It was nauseating, watching her get closer and closer to Sirius as Remus pulled away from her. ”He always got the women," Remus bit. "I suppose you've fallen for him, too."

"Where did that come from?" Tonks replied, a definite note of anger in her voice. “Are you still the same insane person from yesterday? What happened that made you act this way?"

He considered her carefully. "Tell me what you remember from that night you were intoxicated."

"I remember you carrying me into my room. And I remember you were undressed," she flushed. "And then the next day you treated me like I'd murdered your pet kitten."

"And do you remember what you," he hesitated, "saw when I was undressed."

Her blush now extended to her hair, whose pink deepened toward a cranberry red. She swallowed at the memory. ”Yes," she said. She looked pained.

"It makes sense then. You can tell me if you've fallen for Sirius," he said. 

"You’d know perfectly well who I’ve fallen for, if you weren’t too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice."

“What, may I ask, is that supposed to mean?" he said. 

"Remus," she said, "we've been sleeping together for months. I can't believe you think I could think about another man - my COUSIN no less - because of looks. How shallow do you think I am?"

"It's not looks, Tonks, and you know that. It's what I am."

"Are you even listening to me, Remus? I'm telling you I love you. I love you. All that you are."

He wanted to protest. He wanted to remind her of the million reasons she was wrong to love him. To explain to her that she must be mistaken because he was simply unworthy of anyone's love. Especially someone so wonderful.

But instead, his instincts overcame him and he said, "I love you, Dora. I love you so much." And he pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to hers with a passion and ferocity that he hadn't experienced since their first morning together. 

When they broke apart, smiling and staring at each other, both slightly out of breath, she whispered "let's go," and grasped his hand to Apparate them - effortlessly as she always did - to her flat. 

"I don't tell you enough," he said, as she unlocked her door, "but your magical skills amaze me every day." 

She smiled at him over her shoulder as he followed her into the room. "Where were we?” she said, sliding her arms around his neck, and pulling him back down into a deep kiss. He slid her robes open and gently pushed up her camisole to place his rough hands on the bare skin of her waist. 

They kissed and disrobed and stumbled until he was sitting on the side of the bed as she straddled him, barefoot, topless, still in her tight jeans.

This was different than it had been. No rush to genitals, to orgasm, to penetration. For the first time, they were exploring each other, fully.

"Remus?" she said, as she hesitated over the buttons of his fraying, gray shirt. 

He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. He saw only concern and longing. He gave a single, half nod, without breaking eye-contact. 

She carefully unclasped all of the buttons and peeled the shirt open. He had a light sprinkling of brown and grey chest hair that she touched gingerly, before examining his scars, starting with the deepest, the brightest, the clear bite marks on his shoulder, the skin deformed within its confines. 

She traced around its edge with her finger, then lowered her head to place soft kisses across his neck and shoulder, along the crest of the bite. He shuddered at the gentle intensity of the feeling. Only his father, with his silver and dittany and dressings of gauze, had ever been so close to touching him here.

"Is this okay?" Tonks asked. 

Again, he nodded. He had never felt anything so exquisite. 

Tonks screwed up her face and suddenly, a matching bite appeared on her shoulder. 

“Why did you do that?” he asked, startled.

“Does it make you love me any less? Having it on my body?”

“Nothing could make me love you less,” he said.

“Then you understand how I feel,” she said. She stood and removed the mark from her shoulder, then peeled off her jeans. He reached out to take her hand and pull her back. She pulled his pants from him and touched her wand to him, performing the Prophylato charm. She slid herself onto him.

“Finally,” she breathed once he was fully enveloped inside her. “Fully nude and face-to-face. You certainly made me work for it.”

He kissed her again, gently sucking her lower lip, as he ran his hands into her hair, which, still cranberry in color, lengthened into long curls between his fingers. They rocked against one another, only stopping their deep kissing to regard each other, to look into the others eyes, navy and hazel. 

"I love you, Dora.” To say it out loud. 

"I love you, Remus.” To hear it back.

Tonks led the way to completion. She rocked her hips against him, drawing them both to orgasm, simultaneously calling one another’s name as Remus collapsed backward, and Tonks collapsed against him, her breasts against his scars. 

She rolled onto her back. “This is the moment I’ll always use against dementors,” she smiled and grabbed her wand from the bedside table. “Expecto Patronum.” The jackrabbit - strong and silver and shining - sprang from her wand and hopped around the room in a whirl of silver before settling on Remus’s chest and whispering, "I love you."

—

Love is heaven, but war is hell. 

And suddenly they were in the thick of it. And they sat at Grimmauld Place down to confess to Sirius what he had likely long suspected, and Snape’s message came through the portrait, and they rushed to the Ministry. And Remus was ripped in two as he grasped Harry’s struggling body, “He’s gone,” he choked as his best friend fell through the veil while his lover fell to the ground in combat. 

And then they were at St Mungo’s and Tonks would be okay, but the nightmares were new and dark and unrelenting. The hare in the wolf’s mouth and Dora’s jackrabbit and the phantom bite on her shoulder and he was a wolf and he was ripping her apart, abandoning her bloody corpse in the wilderness. And he would wake sweating and screaming, alone in Sirius’s house, which was now Harry’s. 

And he knew he’d have to leave, but he had no home. No where to go. 

Tonks’s parents, lovely as they were, settled her back into her flat once she was discharged from the hospital, and Remus checked himself into the Leaky Cauldron with the pitiful stipend he’d saved from serving Dumbledore. 

They saw Harry off at the train station together, trying to give the boy the support he needed, even though Remus felt even more depressed than Harry now. 

“Remus,” Tonks pulled him to the side after Moody departed for the Ministry. “My parents went back home, so you’re welcome to come by my flat any time you’d like. Full moon’s in a few days, and I’d like to,” she blushed at the intimacy of the statement, “I’d like to help you around then. Anything you need. I’ll try to cook. Where are you staying?”

He looked down at her. She was so beautiful, so young and naive and earnest. “Nymphadora,” he said, “I don’t think we should see each other any more.” 

“What?” 

“I am a vagrant with no money and no prospects,” he said. “And I think it would be more than unwise for you to put yourself around me anytime near the full moon. Accidents happen. You will find someone else. I am not concerned.”

He could see tears welling in her eyes. He’d never seen her cry before. “Please don’t do this,” she said, her voice breaking.

"I'll be on a long-term assignment for Dumbledore," he said. "Please do not try to contact me."

And with that, he turned and left her, losing himself in the crowd, dying inside, swept away with the force of his pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's hang out on at brightowl dot tumblr dot com.


End file.
